


Until the End of Time I Will Love You

by TallyAce



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Confusion, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Lost Woods, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25566688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallyAce/pseuds/TallyAce
Summary: A hero's death is not always grand or gruesome. Sometimes, it can be the quietest, saddest thing in the world.(The final moments of the Hero of Time, in the arms of the place he once called home)
Relationships: (referenced only), Link/Malon (Legend of Zelda), Malon (Legend of Zelda)/Time (Linked Universe)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 64





	Until the End of Time I Will Love You

The man stood in a place not even the gods dared go. The thick, inky water grabbed at his worn boots like the arms of the dead, pulling against his every step as he stumbled his way through the cursed bog. He had no destination besides finding a place to rest, a place to cast aside the clunky, chipped armor that only grew heavier with his every deep, gasping breath.

He was a fool to venture back into his old home, believing within his damaged heart that it would welcome him as it had when he was but a child. Where the forest had once embraced him, wrapping him in mist to shield him from the horrors of war and corruption, it was now shrieking in his ear, clouding his mind with fog as it led him deeper and deeper to his end.

It didn’t take long for the man to even question his reason for coming to the accursed place. He was sure there was a reason, but he could not--for the life of him--remember what it was. He was looking for something . . . or was it someone? He was wearing his armor, so perhaps it was an order from the queen, or maybe even a humble request from . . .

Well, a request from who?

The man abruptly stopped his slow trudge, sinking deeper into the swamp with each second not spent moving. He paid the mud-like water no mind, too caught up within his unraveling thoughts to really care.

He hadn’t taken an order from the queen. She was wise enough to forbid her subjects from even so much as gracing the edges of the cursed woods. To send someone to the forest would be the same as ordering an execution on the spot, for none ever returned from the forest.

No, no one had sent him to the forest, he was there on his own accord. He could remember his wife begging him to stay, insisting that she had no need for-- For whatever it was he was in the forest to find. She had been sick, or perhaps she had been in pain. Pain from what though? She’d clung to him before he left, her hair . . .

What color was her hair?

The man frowned, scrounging his mind for answers. His wife’s name was Romani, and she had red hair. No, that didn’t sound right. Romani, that wasn’t her name . . . but whose was it? Did he know someone named Romani? Was that the name of their kid? He blinked, his frown warping into fear. Kid? Did they have a kid?

He shook his head quickly, jumbling up his confused thoughts even more and bringing others to the surface. They had many kids, didn’t they? There was the one with the scarf, and the one with the hat who always watched over the brown haired one who always got in trouble alongside the one with scars. Then there was the one with the different colors, and the one with the love for the sea. And the two oldest, the one with the fur and the one with the sword . . .

What sword? He couldn’t remember why the sword felt important, why it tugged at his heart to even think about it. As contemplated the sword that made his stomach churn his ‘kids’ faded from his thoughts, their blurred faces distorting even more, until the memory of them barely clung to the recesses of his mind.

It was once the swampy water licked against his knees that the man jumped back to reality, quickly pulling himself from the forest’s cold embrace. He shook his head with a heavy, shuddering sigh, pulling the strange helmet from his head before running a blistered hand through his sweat soaked hair. The mist cleared from his thoughts, and it took the man a moment to realize his thoughts were coming together, held by thin strands that threatened to snap at a moment.

Tears streamed down his cheeks, carving thin paths through the dirt that crusted his face. He heaved a deep sigh, licking his chapped lips as he tried to form words for the first time in weeks.

“My name is Link, and my wife’s name is Malon,” he winced at the croak in his voice before clearing his throat, trying again.

“My name is Link, and my wife’s name is Malon. She’s pregnant with our first child, and I’m looking for a mushroom to make into a medicine for her.”

He fell silent, letting the sloshing, squelching sound of his steps fill the void of sound while he ran his thoughts through his head again, already feeling some slipping from his grasp. He could feel the mist pushing against his mind, ripping the names and faces of his ‘kids’ away from him once more, but thankfully leaving the memory of Malon alone for the time being.

The moment her name began to slip from his mind, Link heaved a deep sigh, loudly announcing his name and purpose to the woods once more. He dared them to respond, dared the forest to rip his purpose from him in his final moments.

He repeated his name so many times that the hours melted together. It was possible he had been in the forest for weeks, many even months, searching endlessly for a mushroom he would have no way of identifying. Yet it was entirely feasible that he’d been in the forest for just a few hours, falling victim to it’s games and deceit far quicker than he had thought possible.

Link stumbled forward, catching himself before his face could smack into the grass below, the green untouched by the black sludge not three feet from it. He wheezed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the solid ground. His legs refused to move any more, no matter how hard he willed himself to stand up and continue. His heart felt as heavy as his limbs, hollowly thumping against his shaking chest.

He was going to die here.

With the last of his strength Link pulled himself forward, enough so that his boots no longer sat in the swampy water and his head pressed against the trunk of an old, gnarled tree. He sighed, twisting around weakly so his back rested against the tree, his eyes staring blankly at the dark, suffocating canopy above.

“My name is Link, and my wife’s name is Malon,” he whispered, not wanting the forest to know of his defeat, to know that it had the satisfaction of breaking an already broken man. “My wife’s name is Malon, I love her very much, and I’m sorry.”

The forest claimed its victory in silence. 

**Author's Note:**

> Re-uploading some of my one-shots as standalone stuff.


End file.
